


permanent stain (just wash away)

by tchallas



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, Jacks queer af, Kissing, M/M, Sharing a Bed, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 17:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6160783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tchallas/pseuds/tchallas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wakes up in the middle of the night, thirsty. Daniel's mind is fuzzy and sleep ridden and he tries to get up, freezing at the presence of another body.</p><p>He knows Jack is in the same bed, but the arm curled tightly around his waist is definitely new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	permanent stain (just wash away)

**Author's Note:**

> posting this partly bc im trash and partly bc im still salty abt peggysous when peggyjason was such end game for me :')

It's an undercover op just outside the comforting shadows of New York and Daniel isn't sure if he likes it much. The trail runs cold and it's a waste to drive back now, _a motel should suit just fine for the night, Jack,_ Peggy had said.

The nearest motel is a crappy one floor style building with paint chips in the walls and unknown stains on the couch in the front lobby.

“I got two singles, rest are full.” The man at the front says gruffly, eyeing Peggy and then Jack.

Daniel wonders, briefly, about who else would book a motel room in a nowhere town.

“Here, Carter.” Jack says, taking the other for him and Daniel.

“If someone's sleeping on the floor, it ain't me.” Daniel hisses after they've bid Peggy goodnight. Jack rolls his eyes mildly and sighs, “wasn't gonna let you sleep on the ground anyway, peg leg.” He says as he unlocks the room.

Immediately, the stale odour of cigarettes and mildew hits Daniel and he grimaces, taking in the sight of the floor, the wood slightly damp and the walls slightly yellow. He eyes the bed, a small rectangle that occupies the left side of the room.

Daniel Sousa is a lot of thing but he ain't cruel.

“We’ll share.” He says finally, settling his crutch against the wall.

“Beg your pardon, Sousa?” Jack raises an eyebrow but Daniel waves it dismissively.

“Unless you want to wake up in someone else's dried mess in the morning, we’ll bunk together.”

“I ain't queer.” Jack says automatically and Daniel sighs, scrubbing a hand over his chin.

“Never said you were, Jack.”

“I'll take the inside.” He continues after Jack doesn't respond.

They didn't bring much with them, they hadn't planned on spending the night in the first place. Daniel strips himself of his jacket, sweater vest and dress shirt, keeping the pants but losing the belt. He places everything in a neat pile on the bedside table. He can hear Jack doing the same and takes his place on the bed, facing the wall.

The light is closed and Jack’s weight dips the mattress slightly as he pulls the covers over the both of them, his back to Daniel's back. They’re lying close enough that the heat that comes off his body radiates towards Daniel.

Exhausted from the day’s events, Daniel lets sleep take him.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, thirsty. Daniel's mind is fuzzy and sleep ridden and he tries to get up, freezing at the presence of another body.

He knows Jack is in the same bed, but the arm curled tightly around his waist is definitely new.

More than awake, Daniel holds his breath, trying not to move. Jack’s holding on pretty tight, his arm hasn't moved and his breathing is slow and even against the back of Daniel's neck. The hairs on his neck rise and he sucks in a slow, deep breath.

Daniel knows it's a mistake, Jack's asleep and obviously doesn't realize how he's holding Daniel so he takes a light hand (as light as one can be in the middle of the night) and picks Jack's wrist off of his waist gently. He drops Jack's wrist behind him, relieved to be able to wriggle away enough that he can feel Jack's presence but not on top of him.

The weight was a comfort, Daniel realizes belatedly and wonders if he could've let it stay like that. No one would've known.

He feels dirty thinking like that, wanting his partner wrapped around him in bed, it's a silent notion of disgust but also a feeling of contentment.

Daniel shakes off his thoughts and goes back to sleep.

(He's still thirsty.)

The morning is lazy and uneventful, Jack wakes up before Daniel, arm slung around Daniel's stomach.

Daniel looks peaceful, lashes fluttering and the normal, sharp cuts of his jawline have softened and seem mellow. Maybe Jack's still hazy but Daniel's olive skin glows, radiating youth and none of the tiredness one expects from this job.

Peggy knocks sharply, whatever she says is muffled through the door and Jack whips his arm off of Daniel, unaware that he'd been staring so long.

“Mornin’, Jack.” Daniel murmurs, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Time to get a move on.” Jack says slowly, finding himself caught between burrowing back into the sheets with Daniel's ever present warmth and getting up to get shit done.

By the time Jack's finished in the bathroom, Daniel's getting dressed, buttoning the last of his dress shirt. His pants are creased and Jack has no doubt his look the same and his hair is messy, almost endearing.

If there's one person who can make bed head look good, it's Sousa. It's mussed but not wild, thick strands of jet black tousled from sleep and falling in his eyes.

Jack isn't queer.

He ain't queer and if he was, it wouldn't be for Daniel Sousa.

He waits as Daniel fixes his hair as best he can, weight resting on his crutch.

“Sleep well?” Daniel asks Peggy once they've left the motel and she smiles neutrally, “well enough.”

Jack almost rolls his eyes, the puppy love is rolling off of Daniel in waves. He claps his hand together and huffs a breath through his nose, “breakfast?”

Peggy shrugs, “I'm ravenous.”

They pile into the car and Jack takes the wheel, driving amiably until he sees signs of a plaza. He's painfully aware that he spent his night with Daniel in his arms and is even more painfully aware that Daniel knows. It seems as if Peggy is oblivious to this as she chatters with Daniel about something that hit her last night of the case. 

He pulls into the parking lot of a cosy looking diner. They take a seat at a window table, Jack with Peggy and Daniel parallel to Jack. 

“Jack are you even listening?” Peggy's voice is sharp and he glances up, unaware that he'd drifted off.

She sighs, realizing he truly is a lost cause right now and instead turns to the menu.

His eyes, he realizes, are trained on Daniel's hands, fingers graceful as he plays with his cuff.

“We’ll have three breakfasts please, regular coffee for them all.” Peggy orders when the waitress comes by.

She gives Jack an extra special smile as she disappears into the kitchen.

When she comes back with their coffee, Jack raises his head and gives her his most charming smile. She giggles and leaves with her cheeks pleasantly flushed.

_I ain't queer._

He can feel the burn of Daniel's gaze. 

New York is familiar and SSR office is home, Jack realizes. He has a home, in New York and with his agents. And if he feels a special connection towards Daniel — deeming him an essential in Jack's so called impression of home — then that's just a coincidence. 

The case is wrapped beautifully after Peggy finds some key evidence, sharp, quick minded Peggy who certainly deserves the attention of Sousa and his doe eyes.

M“Another.” He asks the bartender and taps his fingers on the counter.

“I ain't in love.” He mumbles slightly coherent but mostly gone. The bartender nods in understanding, used to emotional drunks, Jack figures.

The drink is put down and Jack nestles it, holding the glass and examining the condensation.

He stumbles out of the bar early, he's tipsy and needs to stop momentarily, gaining balance by holding onto a street pole.

Daniel's apartment, he thinks belatedly, is somewhere on this street.

Jack's feet move on their own accord, he hasn't come to Daniel's apartment often, maybe twice but it seems that his feet have memorized the steps in his heart. He's standing outside the apartment door within 10 minutes and sways on his feet gently as he knocks.

Daniel opens the door, eyes tired and hair ruffled with sleep, wearing a loose white shirt and pajama bottoms. He looks incredible, mouth turned down in confusion.

“Jack?”

Perhaps if he was sober, the mere thought of doing this would send his mind into overdrive but since he's drunk enough to be brave, Jack kisses Daniel.

His mouth is soft and warm, not chapped at all and the taste of toothpaste lingers on his tongue. Daniel's caught off guard but he kisses back, one hand to Jack’s shoulder and the other against his insufferable crutch.

Daniel pulls Jack in, mouth leaving his briefly to shut the door. And then they're kissing again, fierce and strong, like hurricanes. Jack sucks on Daniel's bottom lip and he makes a noise, sweet like liquid sugar and Jack pushes him to the wall.

“I ain't queer.” He murmurs when they pull apart, nose brushing against the high bone of Daniel's cheek.

A shaky breath.

Daniel’s mouth curves slightly, up into a subtle smile. 

“Never said you were.”


End file.
